


To be a person who knows nothing

by ThatDamnLemonade



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Businessmen, Depression, Doctors & Physicians, F/F, F/M, False Identity, Learning to live and love once again i guess, M/M, Mental Illnesses, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Separations, Spies & Secret Agents, angst with a possible happy ending, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 00:19:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16671163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDamnLemonade/pseuds/ThatDamnLemonade
Summary: Lee Donghyuck. The pride of SMU's research department, winds up in a place where futures are lost and vision is limited to the grey of the cold hospital floors. It is an accident on behalf of the state and nothing can turn it around.The Donghyuck that used to cry and hurt over his best friend or ran around the lab to get away from Dr Byun exists no longer. In his place, there's a shell that needs to be filled in once again.





	To be a person who knows nothing

**Author's Note:**

> It's not the finest but I have to get this out of my system.

\--00--

 

 _"What are you so afraid of?" So afraid that you shiver and your eyes turn to molten glass._  

 _"Everything." Your hold tightens despite the slip in your tone and it hurts. It hurts so much because there's pain and agony._  

 _Your body is wracked by sobs and in this little sphere of smoke, nobody knows if it's you that's suffering, or me._  

 

\--01--

 

Yet another scream pierces through the night. 

Haechan hurries to shut the windows tightly as his roommate hastens to lock the door. He pulls the dark and heavy curtains in front, blocking the dormitory courtyard from view.  

"You don't think we'll be called in the middle of the night again, do you?" Irene asks from where she lays down on their bed, curled up against her pillow.

"Maybe. If they need..." Haechan gulps heavily, shivering. Their heater had broken a week ago and they had been too busy to lodge a complaint. Not that it would be replaced immediately. 

They would have the reassurance of not freezing at night but they have to go through the trouble to file a complaint and wait another week till they were allowed to lug in an old heater from the matron's office. Haechan doesn't know if a week long of writing letters and filling forms only to end up begging the dorm in charge to let them get an old, equally malfunctioning heater was going to be worth it. He doesn't even know if the process works, if they'll be allowed to take one. Freezing was the only other option. Frostbite would kill them before anything happened anyway. 

"I can't do this anymore, Channie...the blood, the guts..." Irene squeezes her eyes shut. Her soft voice wavers off towards the end. Closing her eyes makes little difference. The images are burnt into her eyes. 

She was never very vocal about her feelings outside their tiny shared bedroom. They weren't allowed to be vocal. Voicing concern about having to stitch up severed arteries within a moment's notice at 4 am would just lead them to overwork you. You would be at their beck and call every second till you faint or die. Worse, they could shift you from scientific intelligence to the military department. 

"Stay silent, Irene...Let's wait. All we can do is wait." He says in a softer voice. Irene feels the painfully thin mattress dip against the metal bar frame under Haechan's weight and she turns around to hug his thighs, leaving her thin pillow unattended. 

"I know. We've been waiting so long. Just a little bit more won't hurt, right?" 

Haechan runs a hand through her dark hair– cut to just graze over her shoulders. It is neat to the distant eye, but brutally rough if you look close enough.

"They'll let us all go. They promised. We are all on 'contract'..." He mutters, wrapping his arms around her slim frame. She's lost weight, he notices. Blinking rapidly, he chased away tears that threaten to form in his eyes. He takes in a deep breath, feeling his chest expand and contract with dull pain shooting through the sides. 

She snuggles in closer, basking in his temporary warmth. 

Haechan was blessed to have Irene with him. Their other colleagues were all fine people as well, but in Irene, he found the older sibling he never had. He found a confidante and she treated him as if they were built of the same flesh, as if the same blood ran through their veins and he pondered about alternate universes where they really were related or met as friends instead of being grouped together as prisoners of an international security breach. 

He still remembers the night of said incident crystal clear and he can vouch for every other person in the building– that they remember too. 

They had been scheduled for a meeting. An international science congregation where members of special intelligence were expected to be present. There were a hundred reasons why he flew there, all the way from Seoul, to the heart of a stranger city where winter ran supreme. 

He wonders if he is in Russia right now, or maybe in Europe but the mix of nationalities and accents force him to think it was possible that he is in New Zealand. He could be in any corner of the world right now and nobody would ever come to know if something happens to him. He rubbed Irene's arms carefully. It was cold in the middle of June. 

June. 

He opens his eyes, not realising when he had closed them, and looks around for their small makeshift calendar. 7th June, he mused. He had missed his birthday. Forgotten that he turned 27 years old less than 48 hours ago. Was it because he had spent the past three days at the military building, tending to third degree burns and digging out bullets from torn stretches of deep seated tendon? Most probably, he reasons. 

You don't remember things as trivial as birthdays when your life revolves around the number of patients you have to see or the horrifying consequences that lay in wait for you if you aren't able enough over the operation table. 

It scares him. The thought that if he doesn't wear his mask and gloves, his untrained hands holding the lives of people he will never get the chance to know….he might be the one lying down under the lights, an equally shaky hand cutting him open to dispose of his cowardice.

Below the makeshift calendar (just papers put together with haphazardly drawn boxes and numbers filled in in Irene's impeccable handwriting), lay both of their mobile phones. Dead and discharged; layered with dust. He was often tempted to find a charger somewhere–someone had to have one–but electric sockets were few. Now that their heater didn't work, he could use it for a charger, but the risk wasn't worth it. The two of them could be dragged out and thrown for the unknown dangers to feed on them. They could be dunked into icy water or pelted with embers. _Punishment is always severe in such places_ , he thinks as he absentmindedly runs a hand across his freshly scarred forearm.

He couldn't do it. 

He couldn't rebel—can't rebel. No matter how fearless he has always been, fearlessness is now a thing of the past. He fears breathing in the wrong place or being late. He fears letting his thoughts wander while everyone slaves away. Besides, he had grown to care for a few that he saw everyday.  

Irene being the first on his list. It was a ritual to check each other for injuries whenever they saw each other. The next was Hyo, an older nurse who accompanied him at all times on the field. She ensured he ate every once in a while and had enough supplies, a kind woman really. The matron, a stern and plump lady who spoke primarily in German, was also fond of him and they secretly exchanged smiles and stories of their homelands every few nights, all despite the risk of being found out for sharing personal information. Then there was Yang from the neighboring room who he had taken a mild liking to. A nice boy who often stayed up with him after midnight on days that he had duty. 

Haechan blinks again, eyelashes moist and betraying. The entire room was bleak with grey walls, dull bed covers, simple wooden desks, overhead lamps that automatically flickered on at sunset and turned off after dinner and a small cupboard to keep their clothes and toiletries. 

He looks down to find Irene asleep, soft breaths puffing against stray hair under the little moonlight that peeked through from a gap in the curtains. 

He allows himself a small smile and slides down carefully. His eyes are tearing up again, his cheeks wetting and he is afraid he'll wake her up. He hugs her a little closer because there is nothing that can remind him of home and comfort but his new elder sister. Maybe he has something, but it is only for times when he has no grip on reality.

He can laugh at his thoughts from a mere four months ago. Although it would be a bitter laugh, filled with melancholy.

To think there was a time when he was just miserable because he had been pining after his best friend. Because he had been a secret that was loved but not judged worthy of what he believed he deserved. When he could still choose to skip those few lectures of Dr Byun's class because he knew he can always come back later, and the teacher would give in with a childish smile.  

Once upon a time, it had been nothing but emotional torture to think about Mark (He revelled in his masochistic tendencies he believes.) The fact that he was officially dating Mina and still snuggling next to him in their shared apartment every night, after kissing him to his heart's content, broke Haechan. To think about Mark's engagement and then his wedding earlier that year, and the last dance they had shared with fleeting touches that announced that he was no longer his, was like a stab to his gut. 

Now though...it was almost comforting because he had, at least, his broken heart from the life he led before. He knows it has to be nursed back some day but for now, it is the only thing he can still cling onto. 

The only string that descended into his well, light and spun by a spider that will devour him nevertheless. 

Haechan sleeps well that night, warm and soft, dreaming of the days when he was still called Lee Donghyuck. 

 

\--02--

 

"What do you mean, sir?" Jeno asks incredulously. Incredulous is a word that falls short of describing his state, but remains the closest. He has been running his fingers through his hair for more than ten minutes now, unable to understand what his Professor was saying. 

"Donghyuck won't be returning the same you knew him." Dr Byun's facial expression is unreadable. His voice is small, smaller than Jeno has ever heard and he looks so unkempt. His fringe has grown longer and is brushing the top of his glasses. 

"You're saying you knew where he was all along?" 

"Jeno, nobody except for you and Jaemin know that Donghyuck is, in fact, missing. I told you keep silent, didn't I?" 

"Why now? You mean to say that Donghyuck wasn't part of some busy exchange programme- where, in Budapest? You mean he never went to London either? All those souvenirs, packages-" 

Dr Byun closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose tentatively. 

"Those were all arranged. I can't tell you yet, Jeno. Donghyuck will probably be sworn into secrecy before he's allowed to leave. 

 _If_ he's allowed to leave." 

Jeno couldn't believe this. He knew something was up the moment his friend had stopped answering calls and responding to any messages. All he ever got were short emails with photographs of landmarks and packages sent through post. 

It was two days ago, on Donghyuck's birthday that Jeno and Jaemin figured something was wrong. 

He hadn't pestered them for gifts, hadn't responded to any form of contact and even his parents' cousins, his last living relatives, didn't know why. There were no signs of Donghyuck visiting the graveyard unlike every other year. If they were suspicious then, those suspicions had been confirmed when a letter arrived at their doorstep, dated sometime back in the month of March. It was Donghyuck's handwriting alright (Jeno would recognize that untidy scrawl anywhere, having been Donghyuck's classmate throughout school and university) and the paper looked dusty, as if it had been left at the top of a pile ever since being written. 

All the questions he had asked in the letter were things he was supposed to know if he really _had_ read all the mail Jaemin sent him. He didn't even know of their engagement and of Renjun's skating accident from a month ago. 

The only person Donghyuck ever trusted outside of his family and close friend circle was Dr Byun Baekhyun, his clinical research coordinator. 

"Professor, you owe us an explanation. Jaemin's been crying at home all morning and I don't...I feel so helpless." 

Dr Byun stands up from his chair and picks up the small clock his favorite student had gifted him last year with a huge smile on his face– one that put the sun to shame.

"Jeno, don't expect too much because I wasn't informed directly either. Whatever I know is pieced together from scraps of information I've managed to gather in the past four months." 

Jeno drops his head into his hands, balancing his elbows on the table. 

For a few seconds there was nothing but the ticking of the clock and the entire office lay forgotten. 

He could think of nothing but about the safety of his friend. The same friend who had always stood by him, encouraged him and brought him to Jaemin. The same friend he had yelled at to go away and stop being so sulky over stupid things in life. They had argued before, but never this horribly. All of which happened a few days before news of the exchange program came up. 

A monster was clawing away at Jeno's insides and he was going to let it do as it wished. A sickly atonement. 

"The exchange was real. It was a series of very long meetings actually. The sort you see during other science seminars and medical conferences but this was—I know it sounds strange—for the brightest new talents of the scientific intelligence. And I'm just quoting the brochure. 

You do understand what I mean by _intelligence_ , Jeno? All those underground research facilities guarded by the state. The ones we aren't allowed to talk about. Donghyuck is the pride of SMU's research department. Naturally, he was on the list of candidates. Hell, I didn't even think before giving in a letter of recommendation for this– He's been offered a job someplace like that before too. But he always declined.

There were going to be many famous professors attending. The last day of the seminar was supposed to be an open debate for the students on simple topics that had been often talked about in the past. The sort where they fought over which stents are better and what sort of procedures need to be brought back or banned. 

From what I hear, it was supposed to be for healthy competition. _Healthy competition_ my ass– But then an accident occurred. 

Security was compromised and there were bombings. There's been some media coverage but...Many people died and the survivors were taken away to camps near battlefields.

Not regular battlefields Jeno...the sort of the cold war. I believe Donghyuck survived because I got a letter from him yesterday. They must have allowed some contact earlier. It's not their fault that they were stuck in between international _war people_..." 

Dr Byun was just mumbling by now and Jeno was crying. Tears slid down his face in heavy droplets and he prayed, genuinely prayed, for the safety of his friend. 

When he returned home, he relayed all the information to Jaemin, who broke down into tears once again. "We can't tell the others yet." Jeno mumbles against his cheek, his fingers rubbing circles into the small of his lover's back. Jaemin's grip around his neck tightens and Jeno can feel a new wave of warm tears spilling over his shoulder."Will he come back?" Jaemin asks once he has calmed down enough, his throat still choking with grief.

The two are lying down on their oversized couch, the same one where they used to hold movie nights and were teased by their missing friend. 

Donghyuck's absence was extreme. 

They were living it, the absence as sharp as the blade of a new knife, with chills running down their spine at every mention of their sunny boy and a crushing feeling in their chests when they came across something he used to enjoy. 

It was a ghost that haunted them every moment—be it awake, or asleep.

 

\--03--

 

"When's Hyuckie hyung returning? I haven't heard from him in ages." Jisung comments offhandedly, but in a voice small enough that it only reaches Jaemin, seated next to him, all the while digging through his bowl to find more pieces of chicken. 

It is a day before Mark's 28th birthday and they've been invited over. There will be a huge banquet the next day, for people from the company and their extended families, but the boys deserved something better and more intimate—more homely—in Mark's opinion.

Jaemin freezes for a second, the movement unnoticed by everyone but Jeno, and then lets out a forced chuckle, saying that Hyuck's just fine and that they're hoping he'll return soon. 

Because it is true that they're hoping, more like wishing desperately, to see him once again. It has been that way for the past two months. 

Jisung and Chenle go back to bickering over a competitive round of Mario Kart accusing each other of cheating instead of eating properly. Mina and Mark are engaged in a deep conversation with Renjun, something about recent events in the newspaper and the two of them are left alone to eat in silence as terror runs through their spines at the thought of what Donghyuck was doing or where he was. 

 

\--04--

 

Haechan sat on a granite staircase by the hospital backdoor. He's nursing a bleeding lip when Yang drops down next to him with a glass of water in his hands and a moist cotton cloth in the other.  

Haechan thanks him and takes the cloth, hissing in pain when he realizes that there's disinfectant on it. He curses Yang who just laughs a little and then looks away. It's bleak and plain. Dying patches of grass scattered across a rather ratty and small backyard, frost swirling over the stone walls that separates them from the rest of the warring world.

He's had a busy day.  

It's nothing short of a miracle that he remembers it is Mark's birthday. He thought he was over the older already, but his heart refuses to heal. No amount of stitches and staples can put it back together at the moment. Maybe it'll heal when he goes back home... wherever home can be.  

"It's fucking freezing." He drops the cloth on his lap and shoves his hands into the thin pockets of his doctor's coat.  

"I know right." Yang says, letting out a huff of air, his breath materializing as wisps of mist.

"Yang, do you ever think of...going back where you came from?" 

"All the time. I miss my family. Keep it to yourself, I'm not allowed to tell you that I have a family." Yang smiles good-naturedly and turns to face Haechan with a finger on his lips. Haechan smiles in return, it's a promise he will keep. He owes Yang that much. 

"I have one too. Not very close but they're there." And my actual family—that's still alive to see me—is a group of crackheads that I miss beyond words. But he can't say that. It's been seven months and while he hasn't forgotten any of them, he sometimes has trouble remembering what they looked like when he last saw them. He doesn't dream of them anymore and even though he is out here, melancholic because of a bruised lip and Mark's birthday, he doesn't quite have the same sort of feelings he had last year when-

He shivers. Last year? Time has flown by and even though this isn't the best place to be in, the medical team has it a lot better than the others. 

Last year on Mark's birthday, he was busy smothering himself with self pity in the corner of the elder’s bathroom as a party was held downstairs. It seems like ages ago when he still had the leeway to sit in a dry bathtub, completely clothed in an outfit meant to seduce, with a can of cheap beer to drown his tears. 

They don't even have any drinking alcohol here because the staff (he scoffs) needs to be alert all the time. They don't have time to fool around. 

As the two boys stand up and head back inside, they are met with a familiar scene. People shouting, screams of pain, hisses and scathing curses. Somewhere, a glass crashes and they know what it means. Another person  soon with a bruise on their face. He hopes it isn't Irene. There's abandoned blood bags by the medicine cabinet and he wonders what's happening. There's never been usable blood that was left like this in the open. 

The only wasted blood he's seen is from irreparable wounds and that which was spilled on the floor. Sometimes, he's tasted it because of stupid actions on his part but that isn't as important as this. 

He runs up to a nurse who looks paler than she is supposed to be. 

"What's wrong?" He asks, Yang following him closely and equally intrigued. 

"We have a torn sparrow. No, not torn– ripped open." 

Haechan's insides lurch at the thought. His expression is mirrored by his friend, who looks horrified and disgusted. A sparrow that's been ripped open brutally is a warning. There's bound to be more and more bodies flooding the doors and stricter security. He clenches his fists, the nails digging into his palms and leaving red crescents. 

A sparrow was, what they knew to be a Russian spy, at least in this place. Someone who had endured torturous training and held secrets bigger than the unexplored vastness of the internet. 

Not even ten minutes later he was dragged into an operation theater and scrubbed. He found himself standing next to a shaky Irene and another person he knew by the name of Momo. As he finished pulling on a mask, she pulled him aside. 

"Channie...it's the sparrow. We're going through her body to check for possible tracers and, stuff." 

Haechan gulps, his eyes widening and heart pumping faster than he's ever felt before.

 

The next morning, when the skinning of the sparrow's body is finished and has been respectfully disposed of, Haechan is lying on his bed with a dreadful headache and steadily growing nausea. He is trembling and he knows he won't be able to eat or drink for the next few days. He can't sleep either because even though this isn't the most grueling thing he's done here so far...it's a reminder. Of everything he's seen and done. 

He wonders if he ever wants to return, he's a monster and how will he ever begin to explain what's happening to someone on the outside? Won't everyone abandon him? Maybe he's already been abandoned. After all, he had decided to pack bags and ended up in this place solely because he had been left behind.

Warm tears trail down his temples as he chokes out a sob and covers his face with an arm, too scared to look at his hands. 

He doesn't want to survive if this is what he's going to be forever, hollow and hurting. 

 

\--04--

 

It's late into November, a few days after they've finished celebrating Chenle's birthday. 

Jaemin wakes up with a start when his phone rings all of a sudden. It's somewhere past two in the night and the caller ID says private number. He doesn't have time to think. He answers the call.

"Is this Na Jaemin?" 

"Yes, who's speaking?" 

"It's Byun Baekhyun from SMU. There's news. Donghyuck might be coming back-" 

"Wait, wait, what? What do you mean Hyuck's might be coming back?!" Jaemin is speaking so loudly that Jeno stirs awake and sits up, still groggy and unable to understand the situation. 

"Yes, they're saying the students are going to come back to the university soon. I just don't know when." 

"Okay, thanks Professor. Thank you so much…" Tears are trailing down his cheeks already and Jeno is alarmed. 

"You can collect him from the university when he's here. I'll be in contact." 

The phone line cuts off with a beep, startling Jaemin. In the dark of their room, the two stare at each other and they're both thinking of nothing. There's nothing to think about after all.

 

\--05--

 

"Where's Donghyuck?" Mark asks one evening as he and Jeno catch up at a local bar. 

"Hm...he'll be back soon. In a few days' time. You don't need to worry." Jeno gives him his signature eye smile but Mark knows the other person too well. There's something off about his tone. Mark doesn't know what, but he guesses that when you've known a person this long, you can tell if something is troubling them with much more ease. 

"What's wrong, Jeno? You always seem to avoid talking about him. You and Jaemin, both, just say that he'll be back soon but that's it." 

 _You have no right to ask. You knowingly broke his heart too._ Jeno smiles wryly. 

The music changes in the background but he doesn't have the energy to recognise and sing along. He turns around his glass repeatedly, staring at the dark liquid that fills half of it. "It's... complicated, hyung. We'll tell you someday. We're waiting for Hyuck too." He answers as briefly as he can without lying. He isn't good at lying and he knows it. 

Mark's poker face shifts a little and he lets his head hang as he heaves out a long sigh.

"Well then, how's everything else?" Jeno asks, unable to stand the stifling silence between them.

"Okay, I guess." There's a forlorn look in Mark's eyes and Jeno wants to sympathise with him. He wants to hold the brunet's hand and tell him things will be fine but he has an inkling that they won't. Things won't really be fine.

The two of them end up drinking wordlessly for a while and then climb into a taxi. Mark stops counting the orange streetlights when he finally hears Jeno whisper.

"I'm sorry hyung, but I wouldn't tell you even if I knew..."

Mark pats Jeno's thigh and smiles.

It's another long night for both of them. 

 

\--06--

 

Donghyuck did come back. He wasn't alone, and he wasn't Donghyuck.

Jeno and Jaemin were present at the felicitation ceremony that was very conveniently held in the grounds of SMU, the biggest medical research university in Seoul. There were few people, mostly ranging from, (what Jeno guessed) high class government officials and intelligence agents to lost students running around campus.

The only other attendees were immediate family members and since Donghyuck didn't have many living relatives, Jeno and Jaemin were called to fill in. They would have crashed in even if they hadn't been specifically invited. Hyuck meant more to them than a simple old friend. They hadn't been informed of the nature of the ceremony or even the reason. They decided that it was best to remain silent and wait in such a situation.

"Kim Hyoyeon," A blonde steps forward, dressed in a neat military uniform, and stands straight as a badge is attached to the front of her shirt.

"Bae Joohyun," Another woman, with shorter hair steps forward, dressed neatly in a suit worthy of a high end office. She too, is felicitated and then the Captain on stage pauses.

Another name is called out.

"Lee Donghyuck,"

Donghyuck steps up front, his black hair cut a little haphazardly but still as fluffy as he had always preferred. He too, is dressed in a neatly ironed suit with a tie and looks thinner than they had ever seen him. He is pale, so unlike the golden boy they were used to. His eyes aren't even half as bright as they remember.

The relief that had washed over them vanishes within seconds.

The three people had been felicitated because of service to the world on behalf of the nation and, as an apology in disguise. Their safety, it seems, had been heavily compromised despite being promised otherwise. National scientific treasures, they called the three. Visibly broken and exhausted.

When Donghyuck was allowed to leave, nothing with him but a small bulging messenger bag, they stood at the back of the seating area, waiting.

Donghyuck was indeed family, but the boys were afraid. Exactly why or because of what, they didn't know. There were too many things to think about and such little time. Jaemin wondered if he'll ever manage to understand the sharp feeling in his chest in its entirety.

"Smile, Jaemin. He wouldn't want to see us so worried." Jeno speaks quietly, his thumbs at the edges of Jaemin's lips, pulling them up into a stretched curve.

"Still as lovey-dovey as ever I see." The comment catches them off guard and when Donghyuck spreads open his arms, both of them jump in to hug him. There are tears from all three and while he has been Haechan all this while, he feels like he's that distant Donghyuck again. The same naive Donghyuck that pined over a fool for years and ran around the lab getting chased by Dr Byun. His hands are shaking and he wants to burst into tears.

He tenses immediately however, when he recalls that he isn't _him_ anymore. The newfound warmth seeps out, leaving behind the familiar sensation of numbness. He can still see blood on his body when he closes his eyes and all that screaming still rings in his ears, loud and clear. He never wants to tell them because they'll be repulsed and will leave him...but he doesn't want to deceive them either. Not when they are the only two who showed up to take him back for whatever he was going to be returned as. Even when he can see the questions in their eyes and can smell the underlying scent of fear.

He pulls away from the hug, and gives them the best smile he can muster at the moment. He is exhausted and needs rest. He wants to lie down and stare at the stickers he recalls sticking to the ceiling of his bedroom. He wants to grasp at straws once again and manage to propel himself into a universe where he is an ordinary person who doesn’t know what burning flesh and ruined futures smell like. It is pathetic, he knows, but he needs it.

He smiles wider, his cheeks hurting and teeth screaming as they push against each other in his mouth. He wants to drop dead on the ground.

"Can we go home?"

 

**Author's Note:**

> ( P.S. I had sort of abandoned this because I was busy but I've picked it up again and I'm trying to work around an updating schedule and uploading it on my twitter https://twitter.com/LemonadeDamn? )


End file.
